Type A
by Strawwolf
Summary: Emma Swan is a vampire with a dark and mysterious past. Little does she know that one encounter in a bar with Killian Jones is going to turn her entire world upside down.


Her latest feed hadn't been very tasty. A delivery driver who'd been heavy on the red meat, leaving his blood rich in iron but poor in flavour. She hadn't left herself much of a choice however, going so long between feedings as to leave her desperate for any warm body she happened upon. Fortunately the driver had been sitting in his truck, head bent over a map, phone in his hand, pen cap in his mouth. Easy prey. A pretty smile and a question had gotten him out of the vehicle. A velvet voice and a persuasive gaze put him right where she wanted him in the nearest alley. And she'd bit down hard, sighing as she gulped down that sweet nectar, one hand pulling his hair back to bare his neck, the other holding him steady as she drank him to the ground. At first he'd gasped and then breathed hard into the cold night, subconsciously wrapping his arms around her, as if his brain registered this as some sort of dark rendezvous. She did her best to ignore his wandering fingers, forcing herself not to flinch, waiting as his hands slowly fell away. His head lolled back against the alley wall, a solid thunk against cement before she brought him to earth lying prone, still drinking.

Taking him past the point when she usually finished Emma knew she had to check her hunger. It was an ever-present shadow that drove her, had driven her long before she could put a name to it. In the beginning it had mired her life in blood and chaos, leaving bodies in her wake. She had better control these days but it didn't mean she wasn't aware of how close she strayed to the line, how tempting it was to step over and luxuriate in death and disorder. Reluctantly she pulled off of him, letting the excess drip down her chin in reverie at being sated at last. The aftertaste left something to be desired though. She had no idea when he'd last consumed a vegetable but according to her it wasn't recently. If she hadn't been so thirsty she would have compelled him to eat more fish. Instead she nicked her thumb on a fang and pressed the bead of blood to the puncture wounds on his neck.

He'd wake up woozy but other than feeling confused he shouldn't be away worse off. Emma stood and checked her dress for dirt or tears, smoothing the fabric of imaginary wrinkles. It was always awkward when she was done, even more so if she left them unconscious. Moving around these days she didn't have any regular feeders so she tried not to think about them after she left. They weren't her responsibility after all. She had no obligations to anyone or anything. Not anymore.

Instead she walked over to where she'd hidden her clutch in the bushes and pulled out a mirror. The sight was no shock as she knew she'd made a mess of herself. One glance showed her face, mouth and neck spattered with blood. Fortunately she came prepared and pulled a wet wipe. Careful to remove every last trace of the driver she touched up her lipstick and then pulled out her trusty lighter. Isopropyl alcohol was a boon these days though she would have killed for such a versatile liquid a century ago. Glancing around to check that there were no prying eyes she laid the evidence down on the pavement and quickly set it alight. The material caught quickly, burning away all trace of what she'd done. Satisfied with the ashes she stalked off to find the nearest bar. She needed something to wash away the taste of that driver.

ooooooo0000000000ooooooo

"The Ruby" wasn't the nicest bar in town but it would do in a pinch. Emma walked inside looking for the nearest bartender and slid onto a stool while grabbing a drinks menu. The place was loud and crowded, just the way she liked it. More people meant more drinks and fewer questions. Besides maybe she could have some fun tonight now she'd eaten.

She watched the man behind the bar pop open a couple of beers and fix a few glasses with ice and lime wedges. His hands were fast: popping corks, filling shots, taking money. A decent level of beard adorned his face as he easily talked his way through several customers including one woman with shockingly blonde hair who didn't want to leave him alone. She kept leaning over the bar to talk to him, no doubt fully aware of how low her top was. Emma pursed her lips but then smiled as she watched him tactfully distract the woman with a B-52. If she hadn't just filled up on that delivery driver she might have decided on him. He glanced her way and smiled.

"Anything I can get you miss?"

_You up against a wall maybe._

She put on her best smile and tilted her head.

"Peach bellini?"

"Coming right up." He winked and started in on her drink.

Something that sweet she hoped would drown out all lingering residue leftover from that man and his greasy, greasy appetite. She tried not to shudder at the remembrance of his blood. He probably ate pork rinds and onion rings on a regular basis. She couldn't be sure but his blood had felt sluggish.

_Probably has atherosclerosis._

"Enjoy," he placed a tall glass in front of her, sliding it close with his fingers before turning to help his next customer in need of hydration.

Emma sipped her drink and studied his features. He was cute; he had a nice smile and a laugh that she wanted to hear more than once. He'd started chuckling when one man told a story about how he accidentally lost his wedding ring in a chocolate cake he had made for his wife's birthday. It turned into a full blown guffaw when said wife later discovered the ring by biting down into her slice of cake. Emma smirked. Maybe she could end the night with a bit of fun after all.

"Hey!" She waved at him. He strolled over, wiping a glass clean. "What time are you off?"

He raised an eyebrow before looking past her to check the clock on the wall. "My shift ends when we close up at two."

"And what are your plans after shift?" She leaned forward and smiled.

"I'm going home to my girlfriend. She owns the place." He pointedly looked her in the eye.

"She's a lucky girl." Emma eased back in her seat. She might suck the blood of innocents but she was above stealing men that belonged to others.

"No I'm the lucky one," he chuckled. "Let me know if you want a refill on that," he pointed at her glass before walking away.

While she gulped down the rest of her cocktail and watched him make her another she could feel eyes on her. A human instinct left over from more primitive days, her kind felt it more acutely. Like a prickling at the back of the skull it was enough of a warning to set any vampire on edge.

She shifted in her seat to look out at the room, scanning to see who was likely leering at her. She could only hope it wasn't another one of her kind. Never staying for long in any place it was difficult for her to know if she was trespassing on someone else's turf. She finally discovered her would-be gawker in a man on the other side of the bar. With dark hair perfectly coiffed he was sitting against the wall nursing a half-drunk glass of something dark and he was staring at her. He was staring with bright blue eyes and it was immediately obvious that he wasn't one of her kind. The usual familiar tension, that invisible current that signaled the presence of others was absent. His unblinking gaze might be disturbing but she had nothing to fear. So instead of ignoring him as she normally might have done she stared right back. Overfull and confident she tipped her head and smiled.

_Two can play at this._

For several minutes they sat like that, only interrupted by the occasional body crossing their sight lines. He'd occasionally take a drink and she would respond in kind. Towards the bottom of her drink she started licking her lips at him after every sip, slowing her tongue down with every subsequent swallow, dragging it across her lip. But he showed no outward reaction. It wasn't so unusual that she couldn't get a rise out of man but hyped from her recent meal she was left feeling frustrated at the lack of response. Eventually though their game ended abruptly when a large group of people converged on the space between them and stayed put.

At that point Emma could easily have paid her tab and walked away. But she'd apparently found new prey in this man who didn't seem to want to back down. And she wanted to play. Reaching into her clutch she left two twenties on the bar before ordering another bellini and walking around the group to find the mystery man and bend him to her will.

Approaching his table she noted the sharp suit he was wearing in monochrome colours. A Black vest over a crisp white shirt with rolled sleeves.

_A pocket square and everything. My my._

He was still carrying that stiff look on his face and pointedly seemed to be ignoring her as she came to stand at the side of his table.

"Is this seat taken?" She slid into the chair opposite him without waiting for a response. In her experience once she got her foot in the door she was rarely asked to leave.

"You're rather presumptuous aren't you?" He looked over at her, heavy brows furrowed, mouth set in a line.

"Oh I don't think you were waiting for anyone, at least not anyone that would mind if I took this seat." She watched his brow go up. "There's no way you'd be waiting for another woman while staring at me like that."

_Said the spider to the fly._

Again there was no reaction from him other than a long pull from his drink. She glanced at his hands. He was wearing numerous rings with strange symbols and bright stones, standing in colourful contrast to the watch fob on his vest and the Eldredge Knot on his tie. He was rather fancy for a bar.

"Why were you staring at me, if I might ask?" Perhaps the polite approach would work better. He certainly didn't seem interested in anything else she'd been throwing his way.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes again staring her down. Up close it his gaze was more uncomfortable, as if he was almost too close. She felt like he could see her as she used to be, as if he could peel back all the years in between and call forth her ghost, the frail shadow of her former self crying in the streets for help. Emma forced herself to stay still while keeping her posture relaxed. It felt like interrogation by scrutiny and she was not amused. He might not be a vampire but this definitely wasn't normal.

"I was wondering why you were trying to seduce the bartender when you were clearly repulsed by the blonde who tried it earlier." He offered his explanation almost as an offhand comment; as if it didn't mean that he'd been watching her and the people around her since the moment she'd walked in. He was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Maybe I wanted to see if he was going to stay loyal to his girlfriend." She shrugged and slumped in her chair. It wouldn't do to show that he set her on edge. Better if he thought she was buzzed.

"I don't think you knew about the girlfriend," he murmured into his glass, catching a piece of ice between his teeth before biting hard and cracking it down the middle.

"And you're telling me you heard all of that from across the room in a noisy bar?" She almost felt like she should check him for fangs.

He looked at her over his glass and offered the first faint tracings of a smile. "I can read lips." She frowned before he added, "Deaf brother."

She nodded as if in agreement though why he had eavesdropped on her conversation specifically she didn't know. Maybe this had been a bad idea. He was attractive after all but arrogant and nosy. And most of all he was rude. Not an emotion she was used to from men. At least not once she'd relaxed them. Emma sighed internally. Was the effort really worth it? Maybe if she could just keep him quiet. After all she had walked all the way over here and she had been looking for some fun. So why not? It was the end of a long day she deserved a little entertainment.

Putting on her best come hither look Emma reached across the table and laid a hand over his wrist. He looked up at her, frowning. But before he could protest she looked him in the eye.

"We're going to leave now and go have some fun." She stared and watched his pupils dilate as she compelled him.

He pulled out of her grasp and slugged back the last of his drink. Grabbing his jacket and coat he stood, straightening his tie. Emma followed his lead as he donned his jacket and offered her his coat, his hands resting on her shoulders for a moment as he brushed off some invisible dust. They both exited the bar onto a silent street. The occasional car drove by but for the most part it was only their footfalls against the pavement, echoing out into the night.

Emma really wasn't in any mood to wait and find a hotel room or go back to his place. She just wanted something fast and dirty to get it out of her system and then go and sleep off the rest of that greaser's blood until tomorrow night. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest alley before looking him in the eye.

"When we're done here you're going to forget you ever saw me. You're going to go home and sleep until morning."

She pushed him up against the nearest building, her hands working at his jacket's buttons.

"Someone's anxious to get started." He gently pulled her hands away by the wrists and undid the jacket himself. "Can't have you ripping anything apart. I paid good money for this." He chuckled.

Emma raised a brow. That was certainly different from what she'd witnessed in the bar. He pulled off his jacket and set it atop an electrical box with deliberate slowness. Then he pulled his coat off of her shoulders and set it aside as well before letting his hands come to rest on her waist. He was warm as he steered her to the wall, the heat from his palms leeching through the dress and into her skin. He stepped forward, pressing against her body before he bent his head and brought his mouth down on her neck, kissing the soft skin he found there, before quickly moving on to licking, sucking and biting, his tongue and teeth exploring that expanse of skin all while Emma urged his onwards with moans and whimpers.

She bit her bottom lip as he continued his ministrations, reaching out to latch onto his arms and draw him closer but instead he withdrew his hands and that delicious warmth from her waist. She almost whimpered in complaint before her brought his hands back to grasp her wrists and press them against the wall, holding her still while he continued his exploration of her neck and collar gone.

_Is this how it feels when I bite them?_

She knew there was a type of euphoria that came with bloodloss and compulsion could help with any reluctance on the feeder's part but she'd only ever been on the receiving end once. And she'd buried that memory so deep that she couldn't even remember how it had felt. Instead she just closed her eyes and sighed.

"Don't move."

His voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife. She opened her eyes to see him holding two metal spikes, one over her throat and the other over her heart. In his eyes she saw rage and full cognizance which should have been impossible. He'd been compelled! The only explanation had Emma feeling sick.

_A hunter?_

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